Author's note: If your comment hasn't been published, it's because you correctly guessed the identity of one or more persons and/or places in the story. Congratulations, Scooby Doo. I would have gotten away with it if it wasn't for you and those meddling kids.

The next few days were relatively uneventful. I was busy going to class, working and studying. Mat, for his part, settled into a comfy-cozy schedule that consisted of: waking up around 2 p.m.; goofing off until he had to go to basketball practice at 5 p.m.; coming back to the dorm to eat his weight in dorm food; going out for a few hours; coming back home to call Shelly and/or one or more other girls; watching MTV until 4 a.m. or so; and then finally going to bed. Of course, sometimes the schedule was expanded to include a random hookup or two, but that was his life for most of that first semester. Meanwhile, his books, ignored and unmoving, gathered dust on his desk, slowly but inexorably disappearing under a growing collection of CDs and knickknacks.

I tried to keep up with Aimee by phone, but she was so on-the-go I rarely caught her in her room unless it was really, really late. That didn't keep me from calling incessantly, though. As a result, I started to get pretty chummy with her roommate, Latrisse, who by comparison was almost always available.

I actually had met Latrisse the previous summer when she visited Aimee in Kokomo. They had agreed to meet before moving in together to make the college transition a little easier. The three of us gathered at a McDonald's for burgers, fries and conversation. At one point, while Aimee was in the bathroom, I explained to Latrisse how much Aimee meant to me. I'm fairly certain I used the "L" word at one point. I wrapped up by saying, "It would make me feel better if you'd look after her for me." Latrisse agreed, and during one of our phone conversations, she confided, "You know, asking me to look after her really endeared you to me. You're a pretty special guy, Matt." It seemed like a fairly innocuous comment at the time, but it would lead to trouble later.

People on our floor started referring to us as "Big Mat and Little Matt." Shelly coined that double nickname during one of her many phone chats with my roommate. Mat mentioned it to somebody and it spread like wildfire. Soon people I didn't even know were saying, "What up, Little Matt?" when I passed them on my way out of the building. At 6'2" (6'3" in shoes) and almost 200 pounds, I hadn't been called "little" since elementary school. But now I was becoming universally known as Little Matt. That was...great.

On Thursday, Mat initiated conversation with me, which typically didn't happen unless I was standing between him and the bathroom. "Hey man," he said, "I got dis girl coming to visit me from Connecticut dis Friday cause we got dat extra day. (It was Labor Day weekend.) She gonna be staying here for de weekend. Dat cool wit you?"

I was pretty shocked, but I was also extremely pleased. That one little question was the most consideration he'd shown me since we'd met. To that point, I'd assumed he didn't care about my feelings regarding our shared living space. Or whether I lived or died, for that matter. Maybe he was human after all. "Yeah," I said, "that's cool. No problem."

He wasn't wrong. In addition to the furniture provided by the dorm, my side of the room had a small CD player (on my desk), a TV and VCR (both of which were sitting next to my bed on top of Mat's unused desk chair), a pile of old VHS tapes, three milk crates and a towel rack. That was it. I literally had nothing else, other than clothes and books.

By contrast, Mat's side of the room was totally pimped out. His desk was covered by house plants and street signs (origin unknown). He had a funky bar stool behind his desk (which is why he let me use his chair). There were posters on his walls, and he had CDs stacked everywhere. He had a mini-fridge (unshared). Oh, and he had converted his closet into a sort of entertainment center. Seriously, his side of the room was totally sweet. In fact, if you had drawn a line down the center of the room, the contrast would have looked like a before-and-after picture.

"Yeah," I said, "I really need to do something about that." I had no idea when, though. Maybe when I got my first food service check. Having no money sucked.

Mat wasn't finished. In what turned out to be the high point of our roommately camaraderie, Mat produced a box full of practice shorts and jerseys the school athletic director had given him. "You want one of dese?"

"Hell yeah," I said, taking one pair of shorts and a jersey from the box.

Naturally, the outfit was huge on me. I'm talking laughingly enormous. There was no way I could wear them to work out or play basketball in, but that shorts/jersey combo became my favorite lounge-around gear. One notable feature was that the school name was emblazoned on the butt of the shorts. Mind you, this was before it became en vogue to put words on the ass-end of a pair of shorts...which meant it was okay for guys to do it. You never see that these days. Butt-lettering is now the exclusive province of women's shorts. It's similar to the evolution of belly-exposing shirts. They made their debut in the 80's, and, originally, straight men were the ones who wore them. I'm serious. Go watch the movie Hunk if you don't believe me. Eventually, that type of shirt became "sexy" on women and "gay" on men.

Anyway, it was turning out to be a pretty good night for our roommate relationship. Then Mat lowered the boom.

He looked confused, but answered, "I told her you'd sleep wit her friend."

Although I was pretty sure I understood the implication, I played dumb. "Like, you said she could sleep in my bed?"

"No," he said slowly and deliberately, as if speaking to a retarded child, "I said you would have sex wit de girl she's bringing wit her."

Okay. I was starting to freak. "Why did you do that?"

Now he was getting irritated. "What the hell else she gonna do while I'm hanging out wit her friend?" By "hanging out," I could only assume he meant "banging her five feet away from you."

"Uh, look, Mat," I said, the top of my head starting to sweat, "I don't think I can do that. You know, sleep with some girl sight unseen. I don't even know her."

His huge brow knitted. "Why does that matter?"

"Well, I, uh, you know that I love Aimee, right?"

"So?" He was definitely irritated now.

"So...I don't think I can do it."

He shook his head. "You'll do it." That was it. End of story. No more debate. No more conversation. What had started out as a bonding session devolved into a tense, brooding silence. Shortly afterward, I went to sleep while Mat sat down to watch MTV in the dark.

The next day, I avoided our room between classes. While sitting in the Memorial Union, I saw an ad for Alpha Phi Omega. APO is a national, co-ed, community service organization. You don't live in a house or anything, but there's an office for socializing, parties for more socializing, and of course events centered around performing community service. The ad said something like, "Meet new people and help the community!" I liked the idea of helping the community, but I was really stoked about the idea of meeting new people. I immediately walked over to the APO office, which was, in fact, full to bursting with happy, friendly peeps. Oddly enough, when I filled out the pledge application form, I listed soccer as a hobby instead of basketball. I have no idea why, since I was obsessed with basketball and hadn't played soccer since the eighth grade. The mind can play funny tricks, I guess. At any rate, that seemingly meaningless decision would have long-term consequences. More on that later.

Around 3 p.m., I gambled that Mat might be awake and out scavenging for food, so I went back to the room and called my mom, who usually got home from work around that time. I said, "Mom, is there any way you can pick me up and bring me home for the weekend?" When she hesitated, I decided to use a college freshman's greatest weapon against their parents: emotional thuggery. "I'm really, really homesick, and I miss you." That did it.

I threw some clothes in a backpack and called Aimee, leaving a message with Latrisse that I was going home for the weekend. Then all I could do was wait. An hour passed. Two hours. I kept listening for Mat, afraid he'd come back and find me preparing to ditch him. Finally, my mom showed up at the door. We hugged, and then I practically ran to the car. A little over an hour later, I was home.

I met my friends Gauvin and Greg -- both of whom had decided to attend classes at the local community college -- at Pizza Hut. It was like old times. I felt like myself again. It's funny looking back at those first few months away from home. All I could think about was my old life. Once I hit my groove at college, I rarely ever wanted to go back to Kokomo for any reason. But from August through the first of November, I yearned for that dirty little town.

At it turned out, Aimee came home on Saturday. She wasn't happy about it. It turned out that she was having way too much fun at Butler to waste time in Kokomo. And while I would totally get that a few months later, at the time I was hurt and resentful. I wanted her to see the brief trip home as an opportunity to spend time with me. She saw it as time wasted while her budding social life was standing still. When Monday came and it was time to return to our respective schools, our relationship status remained unchanged.

I arrived back at my dorm around 5 p.m. The timing was consciously chosen because I figured Mat would be at practice. When I got to the room, it looked like a tornado had blown through. And it wasn't just Mat's side that was wrecked. My side was in shambles too. And just like The Story of Goldilocks and the Three Bears, somebody had been sleeping in my bed. Unfortunately, sleeping wasn't all they'd been doing. The sheets, which were wadded into a tangled mess, were soiled (to say the least), and there were lipstick smears everywhere. And while I didn't have much in the way of decoration, I had brought a few creature comforts to school with me: a case of Coca-Cola, a couple bags of chips, some beef jerky, a few boxes of fruit snacks, and a box of Kleenex. Now, my modest little stockpile was gone. All of it, down to the last tissue. (They left the empty box, though.)

For some reason, this violation of my things crushed my spirit.

I stuffed my bed sheets into a laundry bag. As I did so, a handwritten note fell out of the pile. In what was clearly a girl's bubbly cursive script, it read, "Sorry we used all your stuff. We're coming back in a couple weeks and we'll replace everything!" The message was signed with a little heart that had a smiley face in it.

They were coming back in a couple weeks?!

I took the sheets downstairs. Fortunately, the linen lady was working, and she exchanged that nasty mess for a fresh, clean set of sheets. I returned to my room, made my bed, and sat down to study. It had been dark for hours -- and I was still studying -- when Mat finally returned. I wasn't even afraid of whether he was mad at me for ditching him anymore. I was pissed. Not pissed enough to tell off the seven-foot giant, but pissed.

He must have sensed it, too, because his initial silence wasn't as brooding and intimidating as usual. Finally, he said, "Hey, sorry 'bout all your stuff. I'll buy you new stuff tomorrow."

"Don't worry about it," I said, not even looking up from Selected Essays from the Middle Ages. The evening passed in complete silence, except for Mat's beloved MTV. I called Aimee and went to bed. When Mat received his nightly call from Shelly, he actually pulled the phone out into the hall, presumably so his dirty talk wouldn't bother me. Maybe he really did feel bad.

The next day when I got back from class, there was a case of Coke, a box of tissues (generic) and a bag of Ruffles on my desk. When I saw that, I actually thought that things were going to be okay between us. However, my feelings did a 180 that night when he showed up with a new girl, turned on Sade's "No Ordinary Love," and told her, "You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen..."

Anonymous -- You need to treat every Basketbawful post like a Gallagher concert. Cover everything in plastic, just in case.

Buck Nasty -- I probably should have mentioned this in the story. Yes, I did have a car -- a 1978 Plymouth Fury, which actually still ran pretty well -- but freshman at my school weren't allowed to have a car on campus. Some frosh worked around this by parking off campus, but you always ran the risk of your car getting towed or vandalized. In retrospect, I wish I'd tried it.

Although what the hell on the Freshman rule? The only complaint about students and cars around here is how many parking tickets people get around some heavily traficked buildings(no parking for classes, etc.) But then again we are talking to a guy that lived in a dorm.

Sad trombone.

Please tell me it was the station wagon Fury....? That would have been a sweet one to be sporting. Ladies?

Mr. Bawful - I feel like you're baiting me by continuing to mention your pile of basketball tapes, especially now when you imply that you brought little else to college. I imagine your Mom asking you towards the end of summer if you were all packed for college and you saying "yep, I've got every Celtic game from the last 10 years already loaded into the car."

You know, it's really not fair to end this installment on such a cliffhanger without letting us know exactly what all had gone on in your room (and in your bed) while you were gone, especially since with this being a holiday weekend, we're gonna probably have to wait till Monday to find out the rest. I will say that this series is almost making me dread the start of next season, since it'll mean that there probably won't be any more of these. How soon until you publish a book? I wanna pre-order it from Amazon as soon as I can.

BTW, you must be right about how straight guys used to wear belly shirts back in the day - it's the only way to explain the Rob Lowe poster Corey Haim's character had hanging on his closet door in The Lost Boys.

Buck Nasty: I went to school not far from Sacramento (at UC Davis) and they had that same no-frosh-cars rule - well, it was odd, I think you could pay your way around it with permits, but most freshmen didn't bring them, myself included. I think one of the pseudo-rationales was "environmental reasons," whatever. When I finally got my Toyota up there in '07 after years of waiting, I was pretty stoked...

Wild Yams: I am hoping that in a future installment, Mr. Netherlands and these decaying Betamax tapes of broadcasts from the Gahhden somehow end up being featured together...

When "Livin' Large" is done, I think we need a movie version. Or at least, a Youtube cartoon take from Scrumptious Soda (NorthMass). THAT's promising.

Wild Yams -- The funny thing is, on the first draft I omitted the pile of tapes, then added it on the second go-through because I thought you might ask about them. ... It got weird, didn't it?

I didn't mean to cliffhang this installment. To be honest, I never really found out what went on, other than finding out that, in my absence, Mat asked some random guy down the hall to "entertain" his guest's friend. The fact is, I didn't want to know at the time. In retrospect, it probably wasn't anything more exciting than drinking, smoking (ganj) and crazy sex. ... Why did I go home again??

And that Rob Lowe poster is EXACTLY what I'm talking about. For a very short time, guys wearing half-shirts was considered sexy. But once women started doing it, it turned gay overnight.

You do realize that if you do a search in Google with the sentence [sentence deleted] with quotation marks, the only result is the blog post in which you made a comment where you mention that you went to [school name deleted] and were roommates with [name deleted]? And that if you Google search without quotes, it's the second result?

Just sayin' :)

Anyway, I'm really enjoying these posts and I think it was a very good choice of writign to do while in the off season. Keep them coming!

I'm pretty sure I figured it out. You mention Super Nintendo, and enjoying 90-92 Larry Bird so we can be sure this is 1993 or later. We also know that you went to school within an hour of Butler University (I'll say 2 hours, just in case), and that a future NBA all-star was on the same team as your roommate.

So, I used basketball-reference.com and imported every all-star roster from 1993 to the present into an Excel spreadsheet. I'm pretty sure I figured it out. You mention Super Nintendo, and enjoying 90-92 Larry Bird so we can be sure this is 1993 or later. We also know that you went to school within an hour of Butler University (I'll say 2 hours, just in case), and that a future NBA all-star was on the same team as your roommate.

So, I used basketball-reference.com and imported every all-star roster from 1993 to the present into an Excel spreadsheet. I sorted by names and just went through and picked people out if they didn't go to school, or didn't go to school near Butler. The list was quickly narrowed to [names deleted]. It is almost certainly not [name deleted] unless you were playing SNES while everyone else had PlayStations. Since [names deleted] both went to [school name deleted] and it's closer to Butler than [school name deleted] I figured I'd start there. The search [search terms deleted] didn't yield anything interesting but [search terms deleted] led me to this article: [link deleted]. The article mentions a 7-foot center named Mat committing to play at [school name deleted] starting in [year deleted]. That would have put him on a nationally ranked team with [name deleted]. I'm pretty sure this is the guy. If I'm correct I realize you probably can't publish this comment, but can you let me know if I'm right?

And, by the way, just so you know I'm not some kind of creep, this process wasn't as complicated as it sounds only took about 20 minutes. And it was actually kind of fun reliving the days of Tyrone Hill and Chris Gatling as NBA all-stars. There's a potential off-season blog article for you if you haven't done it already: Jamaal Magloire's Least Deserving NBA All-Star Team.

Anyway, I think your blog's awesome and look forward to the next chapter.

It HAS to be [school name deleted] my ole Alma Mater. I graduated in January, me and my buddies have driven to Kokomo to go to hiphuggers and its an hour away. Plus you aren't allowed to have cars as freshmen there. Also the Memorial Union is a [school name deleted] thing although im sure every school has a union.

Anonymous #2 -- Yes, I do remember that link. As for pictures, since you found that link and have name, some industrious Googling should serve you well. Or some investigative work in the comments section of previous "Livin' Large" posts.

This series is awesome. Seriously. It could actually be used as the basis for a movie. Assuming, of course, there's a character arc. Because as awesome as this series is, it sounds like you were a tight-ass, spineless douchebag during your first weeks of college. And I mean that in the best possible way.

truegrit -- OUCH. But pretty much on-target. There's definitely some character arc, but the overall arc extends way beyond my time living with Mat. I didn't totally loosen up until I fell under the influence of my next roommate, BadDave.

Mr. Bawful - You have no idea how hard it is for me to refrain from launching into a lengthy series of questions surrounding your tape collection. I'm holding off because I don't want to distract from how awesome this series is by focusing on this weird tangential bit of info, and because I'm hoping at some point down the road you'll have an entry or five focused just on the tapes. I worry that I won't be able to bite my tongue forever though, and that if such an entry doesn't appear at some point, I may burst forth with a myriad of queries. Consider yourself warned :)

I feel left out of the whole [comment deleted] spree which has befallen this thread, since as an occasional contributing author here my comments don't need approval, so I can't just post the name of your school and this player (though they were easy enough to figure out, as I mentioned in the comments for Part 1) and wait for you to edit them, but just know that I would post them to join in if I could.

BTW, as awkward as it was for Mat to straight up tell you that you'd be banging his girl's friend, how much more awkward must it have been for him to start roaming the halls looking for some random guy to pawn this girl off on? Did anyone approach you with something like "Uh, just so you know, your enormous roommate came by the other day and asked if I'd go back to your room and bang some girl that was visiting"?

I remember wearing a Seattle Seahawks half shirt in 1985 as a kid. I felt totally cool wearing it too even though I was not in shape, at all.

Interestingly, when I was in Shanghai recently, men tended to roll up their shirts into half shirt formation to beat the heat, which was more disorienting to me than being in a country where I didn't speak the language.

Wild Yams -- My God, you're really going to make me pull out my old tape collection aren't you? I have to admit, I've cut so many old games off of ESPN Classic and NBA TV that I hardly go back to it anymore, just because it's much easier to watch a DVD than an old VHS. Oh, I should also say that my buddy Statbuster spent YEARS burning old games to DVD and a year or so ago gifted me with his ENTIRE collection, stating, "You'll watch these games more than I do." Best gift ever from a dude, hands down. Seriously, the stack of DVDs he gave me was almost a foot high.

Yeah, I figured the peeps with Basketbawful contributor status (Statbuster, Evil Ted, you, AnacondaHL and chris) would be savvy enough not to name names.

You know, I don't think that was awkward for Mat at all. I mean, he offered those types of things really casually. Re: sloppy seconds. It just wasn't a big deal to him. In my post-grad life, I've met people (and, indeed, come across entire subculture communities) where people offer their wives/girlfriends up pretty casually. Different strokes for different folks, I guess.

The guy who did the substitute banging loved Mat for a while...until Mat did something he shouldn't have. More on that in a future installment.

Anonymous #6 -- That link you provided only went back to the recruiting class three years after my roommie was recruited.

Will -- Obviously, I could make every post racy, and there probably will be some racy posts in the future. But I don't want to sell these posts purly on sex.

Interestingly enough, I unintentionally received an update on Shelly last night. Not to spoil anything, but she and Mat did NOT end up together forever. She did, however, end up with someone and now has SEVEN kids. SEVEN. Zoikes.

poptarted -- What's scary is I believe I had a Hulk Hogan half shirt. [shudders]

While I have given up the search for my fellow countryman's and martyr of the bachelor lifestyle's indentity as perhaps it would devaluate the story (okay I just can't find it alright!), the story itself is really shaping up to have à soap opera ending. Kind of like Who Shot JR? but without the cowboy hats and Patrick Duffy.

Wait,[City Name Deleted]? That's not as close to Butler as I thought it would be. Is that actually it? I'm losing interest. We'll probably find out through details in future installments. Or I'll ask Yams or something. Damned google search masters....ability to......uncovering secrets like that....rabble rabble.

You're really throwing the dogs off the scent by saying that he played with an "all star" player.

I mean, the "all star" in question made.. how many appearances? 1? And was it really legit? I guess so. Hmm. that said, I do like the player who must not be named. I hope that he stays with his current team, of which I am a fan. He's kind of a badass who you wouldn't want to meet in a dark (or lit) alley.

Oh, and, was your roommate remotely in-shape? Because at 7-2 302 or whatever he was, (probably inflated numbers like all b-ball players. e.g. Steve Nash is NOT 6-2) he was either cock-diesel or pilsbury dough boy, but NOT skinny.

Come on people, I'm really disappointed in anyone who hasn't figured out this guy's real name yet. Even the most cursory Google search should direct you to a comment Mr. Bawful made about this guy on a different blog years ago. It's not rocket science. I mean, how many Dutch ballers named Mat have been referenced on the web by Basketbawful?

I'm with you Yams, if there are still people that can't figure it out after that last clue (wooden award winner), I'm going to start wondering how these people acquired a computer and where actually able to get on the internet let alone find this blog and "read" it.

Hey Bawful, so you've been thinking about writing this story for 3 years and held out on us? If you're interested in cleaning up the trail you should probably look into the posts you left on The Association in 06 where you detail everything.

Mr. Bawful - BTW, I forgot to comment on your response regarding the tapes. My questions surrounding the tapes are more of the "how do other people react to the collection" and "how do you explain them to other people" variety. I imagine it's not something that you immediately foist upon someone when you first meet them, but surely as they come to know you they must inevitably find out about this huge stash of yours. Does it make for any awkward encounters or do most people just pay it little attention? I also imagine at some point when you start dating someone that the tapes/DVDs have to come up. I'm envisioning a scene like in Fever Pitch when Jimmy Fallon finally tells Drew Barrymore that he's a borderline insane Red Sox fan after he's been keeping that part of himself well hidden for the first few months of their relationship. Does this collection get any special notice from other people, or does it all just get lumped in with your general basketball obsession? Like "Oh that's just Matt, he wears Larry Bird shorts four times a week and spends most of his free time watching old Celtics games he has on tape."

I told you I was having a hard time refraining from digging into this subject :)

I must have some sort of problem as when I read about your tapes I don't think of them as all that unusual.

Of course this is coming from a guy that through middle school/high school recorded the NBA Draft every year and probably had 5 or 6 recorded before Hurricane Rita took those away.

Of course I recorded those Drafts for informational purposes. I could go back and watch them so I would have every draftee's name,number,team, height, weight etc so that I could manually create and add them to NBA Live as soon as possible (life before Al Gore invented the interwubs was tough).

And then I manually recorded the box score for every game I played into a note book so that I would have each individual game logged for entire multiple seasons.

And NO I still don't do that only using Excel. Only some crazed maniac would do something like that.

Chis: No It was only around the mid 90's that I started doing that. I also remember I had the entire Houston Rockets/New York Knicks Finals on tape as well before those where destroyed. But that's probably a good thing, I don't think anyone would want to back and watch John Starks single handedly strangle and murder any chance Patrick Ewing had at being an NBA Champion.

Bawful: It's not just Yams. When you wrote "My side was in shambles too." I was worried that something happened to the tapes :ohdear:. There will be a mention of the tapes somewhere in my Barkley Gaiden review.

Also, Little Matt and Big Mat was completely and unintentionally HILARIOUS after that fake threesome story posted last comment thread. I think the stories are accidentally mixing in my mind...

AK Dave - Nope, I'm not a Wolverine. I've never even been to Michigan, actually. I just remembered that that was where they did that particular study (it was done by Clarke&Hatfield back in 1989, apparently, just FYI).

Buck Nasty - Dear lord, he was introduced to the theme music from The Terminator and then Prodigy? Also, that was one of the least inspiring fights I think I've ever seen. Did the other guy even throw a punch? It looked like his whole strategy was to just cover his head with his arms and cower.

Regarding Fever Pitch, I probably did expose a little too much of myself by admitting I'd seen it, but I figured if Mr. Bawful can open up then so can I, dammit! :) BTW, that's nowhere near the most embarrassing movie I've ever seen.

AnacondaHL - Whoa, I'm truly impressed that you saw Pluto Nash in theaters, because that is arguably the biggest money losing movie of all time. According to Box Office Mojo it cost $100 million to make, and yet only recouped $4 million at the box office. Ouch. I missed it in theaters, but I did see it on DVD (though I had to split it and watch it over two separate viewings due to it being so dull).

I too saw Event Horizon in theaters and am always perplexed when I see people put that on their "favorite horror movie" lists, as I thought it was real bad. If you ever find yourself watching it, keep an eye out for Lawrence Fishburne's chair, as it is quite possibly the worst prop in the history of cinema, and also be sure to keep reminding yourself that you're watching a movie starring Jack Noseworthy.

(in regards to the youtube clip of the fight, which might get deleted) Are you kidding me, did anyone actually pay to see that fight? It was the most pathetic thing I've ever seen. Did Mat pay the opponent to play? Or perhaps that's the father of Shelly's 7 children and Mat challenged him to a duel

AnacondaHL: Oh I KNOW it's on Youtube, but somehow I think a fading, warped Betamax copy of it in not-so-pristine condition would capture the ethos a little bit better. You know, the rewind wear from every time you expect the draft to be held fairly...and then for the anointed city to receive its future Snickers pitchman.

Ah, it's good to hear that the almighty Basketbawful was also once pathetic. There is hope for me still. I'm loving these stories, but you never answered that earlier question about keeping a diary. Surely you must have been. Since how old? Until now? In that case, you must be sitting on a freaking gold mine. But then, I understand that, as a guy you might not want to admit to keeping a diary. I don't... I mean, I wouldn't, if I did, which I don't, of course, because I'm a guy... geez, I didn't expect some sort of Spanish inquisition...

Dude, I just watched that youtube video, and are you sure you want to risk pissing him off? Sure he sucks, but apparently being huge allows you to suck in many aspects of life.Also, congratulations on finally getting the consistently long comment threads you and the website deserve. Sometimes these are a great read in themselves. As long as no-one starts commenting "first".

I can't believe this... Due to your (or people in here) constant implications to google it up, I tried and it led me to a site where Mat is extolled as one of the "tall hot guys" in the world. Really?!?! In Swipper's words, "Oh men...!!" I really don't know him, but I think that's him.. You probably would not need a diary Bawful to remember everything at that time, as am sure he filled big chunk of your memory brain every time you saw him :D

I will have nightmares tonight. So pls, be sure to post next part tomorrow.

To all those people trying to guess: is it that important? Isn't it just enough to know that this isn't a fabricated tale? Can't you just enjoy an interesting, funny, well written story without trying to put together all the puzzle pieces?

I found a hilarious bare-chested picture of "Mat" on some kind of Dutch MMA website. I wish I could share the link with you guys, but it would inevitably be deleted. For those interested Statsheet.com was very useful in my quest, good luck to you all.

Bawful, just out of curiosity, how did you remember every single event that happened more than a decade ago? Did you keep a journal of some sorts, or were these events just so traumatizing/awesome that you remembered every single detail?

Buck Nasty - I too saw Wild Wild West in theaters, and I'd probably be more embarrassed if I didn't know that it's a surefire certainty that Kenneth Branagh has cornered the market on embarrassment for his part in that pile of dreck. The only thing offering even a glimmer of redemption for having sat through that movie was hearing Kevin Smith tell his story about his attempt to write a Superman script and the funny way that movie worked into the tale.

AK Dave - I'm glad to hear I narrowly avoided a suspicious death in my sleep simply for having never visited the great state of Michigan :)

Anonymous - OK, here are my thoughts on the Ron Artest for Trevor Ariza swap (which it basically is): if Ron Artest can play like he realizes he's the 3rd or 4th option on the team, then the Lakers are going to be damn near unbeatable. If he plays like he thinks he's the best player in the world (in other words, if he plays like Ron Artest normally does), then the Lakers could have a disaster on their hands.

Look, Artest is more talented than Ariza on both ends of the floor. He's a better outside shooter, he's got a devastatingly good post game around the basket and he's a better passer. Of course the flipside to that is that he often negates his outside touch by insisting on shooting contested threes off the dribble (which he's awful at), he rarely uses his post game, even if guarded by a weak defender, and he doesn't pass the ball very often. So if Artest plays well, then the Lakers will be even more potent on offense than they were this year. If he doesn't play well, then one of the best weapons against LA's offense will be Ron Artest getting playing time.

Defensively Artest is not as versatile as Ariza is (Ariza could guard LeBron and Tony Parker, which is something few in the NBA could do); but Artest is better at guarding bigger SFs than Ariza is, simply because Artest has the muscle and size to do so. Since virtually every main threat to the Lakers features a big, strong SF (LeBron on Cleveland, Pierce on Boston, Melo on Denver and Vince on Orlando), Artest might be a better fit defensively than Ariza was. Artest also could play PF if the Lakers had foul trouble or decided to go really small.

All in all I think it's a ballsy move by the Lakers and it really remains to be seen whether Artest will be able to mesh with the Lakers or not. If so, it'll mean another Laker title. If not, then it'll mean someone else will be hoisting the L.O.B. trophy in June.

Oh, and speaking of Wild Wild West. I worked at a movie theater the summer that came out and had the pleasure of sweeping up to the eponymous song in the credits as well as Bailamos by Enrique Iglesias. The best closing credits sweep was of course Sweet Child of Mine (not the Sheryl Crow version) during the credits to Big Daddy.

When is Will Smith going to do another rap/movie marketing supercombo? Is he too legit-actor to do that now? Shame.

There's really not much to add to what Yams said. If Artest can keep from getting shot happy (or even better, spend 90% of his time on the court playing off the ball or in the post) then the Lakers have significantly upgraded (funny you should mention Tony Parker though, Yams, because with San Antonio back in the fold he's gonna be giving the Lakers fits now that they dont have a quick, long defender to throw at him who won't foul him very often).

Ariza will also fit in seamlessly with the Rockets, especially now that Yao's future is in question. He's athletic, doesn't dominate the ball, is a grat finisher on the break and only tends to take open three pointers.

I think this is that rarest of trades: one that makes sense for both teams.

Now what about the Clippers? They get the #1 pick in the draft AND get rid of Zack Randolph in the same summer? It's too good to be true. They must be working on an extension for Quentin Richardson behind the curtain, or on a Marcus Camby for Eddy Curry trade. It's the only way I can make sense of their...sensical...maneuvering.

i´m from freakin´ germany and i wanted to tell you to go for the german voiceover of eddie murphy to experience fail in a very special quality. sayin thank you for easy access to english versions since the introduction of dvd-technology..

What I don't understand is why some people seem to give Ariza more benefit of the doubt on his shooting. From Truehoop: David Thorpe: "We don't know if Trevor Ariza just made some shots last season, or has actually improved as a shooter. But if he is now a much improved shooter, he has superstar potential."

Really? Superstar potential? Maybe because I was rooting for the Lakers last year I held them to higher standards, but there was not much that indicated to me Ariza would be even a star. His threes were by large created by other players. He did create a couple of fast breaks each game, which is nice, but not really anything reliable.

He played defense with a lot of hustle and energy, but his one-on-one defense was somewhat overrated because of his playmaking abilities (more AI than Bruce Lee--Bowen). I believe Chad Ford said in a Free Agency article that Ariza is surprisingly strong and would have no problems if someone took him to the post, yet he routinely got abused by Carmelo (yes, not every team in the league packs a Carmelo, but considering the Nuggets were a WCF team, it might be good to watch out for that possibility, as well as another team that features this manbeast of a SF?). Yes, he changed the outcome of the game twice in that series, and I definitely praise him for it, but maybe such heroics wouldn't have been needed if they had someone to stop Melo? At one point, it got so bad they had to put Kobe on the Great Hit-and-Run. I've been a Kobe fan for a long time. I try to defend him (within reason) when I can, but he is getting older. It's already bad enough seeing him sometimes jack up hero shots (maybe that's why the thought of Artest potentially doing the same doesn't quite instill fear, I'm used to it), but if he had more legs, he'd be less likely to shoot those and drive instead, right?

While it's true that Ron Ron shot pretty poorly from the arc in the playoffs, it's a pretty small sample, and he actually shot almost 40% from 3PT during the season (which makes me feel silly for ripping on him for shooting 3s during the season...only sometimes). If that kind of shooting over a season is a fluke, what's to say a career <30% 3PT shooter suddenly draining 48% of his 3s isn't a fluke?

Ariza strikes me as the kind of player who fits perfectly on a championship contending team as a role player. He provided energy when the Lakers sometimes got lazy. He provided a semi-decent shooting option when others started getting doubled. I would have been perfectly happy seeing him return to help defend the championship, but only at a reasonable price. That he didn't accept the Lakers' midlevel exception offer and even acted insulted (now, the posturing was mostly by his agent, but hey, he still didn't accept the $5.6 million to start contract when no other team would offer him more, unless he has a serious case of Ben Gordon-itis) suggests to me that he thinks he's way beyond being someone's sidekick's sidekick's sidekick, so it was probably a lost cause anyway. One of the ESPN articles (or maybe it was a link to a blog) said something to the effect of Ariza and Bynum being the future of the Lakers. If that were true, sure he'd be worth the $7,8 million or whatever he wants. However, if he were only capable of succeeding as a role player, then why would the Lakers pay him that much?

I really feel that on that Rockets-lite roster, his luster would fade quickly. If Shane Battier spent his career in Clipperland, would anyone have noticed him? Sure the Rockets would probably run more without Yao, but it's hard to see him making that big of an impact.

Matt, I simply love this. You could make a living writing entertaining books. In fact, I hope that's what you're up to here.

I also feel a special affinity with you, since your start in college sounds remarkably like mine (well, except that my roommate was a future Russian Orthodox priest. Seriously. But that didn't stop him from playing Russian folk songs on the guitar for some chick and laying her while I wrapped a pillow around my head and tried to sleep. Oh, and he got VD from the experience. Heh.)

As the individual who best knows Bawful the man, not the friend (heh heh), let me say some things about Matt.

He is a savant (occasionally idiotic) with events. We've referenced a few of our shenanigans in some of our comments, and that bastard knows every word in chronological order. Even when I retell a story from my point of view, he remembers what I said more accurately than I do. He'll correct me. He does in with ball games. I sometimes trigger him by referencing a random game and he'll go off about George McCloud making some damn 3 with 3 to go in the first half. Whatever. It made college depressingly easy for him.

Secondly, Matt is a weirdness magnet. Seriously. On any given day he ignores more crazy bullshit than I see in a month, and my job is working with college students! I'm in a theoretical hotbed of crazies and he'll see some conjoined-at-the-knee twin killing a polish sausage vendor on the street with a figure-8 leglock during lunch.

He has awful daily luck. This has actually improved over time a little, but not only did weird things happen to him, the fates regularly used his thinning scalp as a portajohn. He would literally have days where his shoelace would break as someone spilled coffee down his shirt near his car, shorting the power windows on the hottest day of the year. And then he'd get called to work his overnight shift to cover for some smart fellow who realized that he could work in a little booth all night or he could go out and get smashed.

Matt always wins. Don't debate with him. It's just not worth it. I think I've won 2-3 arguments in about 15 years of friendship. He'll just pull more facts about the subject at hand (see item #1) until you spout random words or just walk away.

Matt has a temper. He once got a phone call with ridiculously bad news (see item #3) and he DESTROYED a stool with one mighty kick. It was impressive. In fairness, I have it too. However, his rages are scary and legendary. Luckily they're not that common, but his road rage is out of control. He hates people that stop at stop signs.

Don't drink with Matt if he means business. And if you do, don't try to keep up. He will totally pound them early and call you a douche for not keeping up. But two hours later I always catch up, unless I was trying to keep up at the start. So while in the long haul I can pace him, no human being can keep up with Matt in the first quarter. Just do your thing or at least schedule a mid-evening dialysis.

To Matt: It's already been established that he will (awesomely) play a role in future installments.

To AK Dave: Nice. That reminds me of how Ford Fairlane did so well in Sweden(?) because a famous comedian over there did his dub. Also, AK Dave make a freaking blogger profile. You post every day, why not speed things up?

What's amazing to me, is the phenomenon of people who love reading this story; but, think the All-Star is also the Roommate.

Let me guess, your roomie was Jerry West? Are you the real inspiration for the NBA logo?

I am also amazed at how easy the googlin' was when I used the quotes... damn you, Yams!! (or, whoever it was that made that comment, I can't find it now).

Of course, since I actually read the posts and the comments, I followed a very easy link from an earlier post's comments and, yay!

Now, why do people want to know? To feel like part of the gang. Everyone wants to know the inside jokes. I would be satisfied if this story was a complete work of fiction; but, since I know it's true, I need to know who it's about. It's more personal for me, the reader.

And, like I said before, the story is much more fun knowing who the future-NBAer was; and, even though I know it's not the case, I like to imagine the All-Star as the Roomie. I'm sure that will change when the All-Star enters the scene.

I bet both the chicks were dimes, and Mr. Seven-Footer got with both of them at the same time. You can't be mad at the guy, he tried to hook you up with some effortless action. On another note, Kobe and Artest will be the worst combo ever. Artest hogs like he's Maravich, he's a rich mans Larry Hughes.

Even though I have consumed a toxic amount of beer this weekend, I have to jump in and make one comment on the Artest deal. It will make the Lakers better. Much better. Worries that Artest will be a freak or take horrible shots will turn out to be entirely unjustified. And that is simply because of Phil Jackson. Seriously, this is like Dennis Rodman Part II for him. P-Jax did it when Rodman came to the Bulls and he's gonna do it now this Artest: Transform a career nutjob into a highly efficient contributer to a powerful team. Yeah, I know Dennis had success with the Pistons, but that was before he'd Rodman-ed Out.

I'm not saying the Lakers will win the title, but I promise there will be many times next season here Jackson's history of successfully managing egos and/or lunacy will be referenced.

Unrelated picture of Vlade, which is always fun:http://assets.espn.go.com/photo/2009/0622/nba_ap_vdivac1_400.jpg

I think its nice to imagine these stories are about Shaq. I just think it'd be funny if basketbawful had Shaq as a roomate and was pissed at him for using all his kleenex, etc. And picturing shaq doing the 'you are the most beatiful girl I have ever seen' routine totally fits.Actually, Vlad would as well fit well in the story. Hmm, perhaps pretty much any NBA bigman would fit.Shawn Bradley, Tractor Taylor, Brad Miller (actually fits the story pretty well, hint), Dirk (that would be awesome!), Darko, etc etc.

Love your stuff bro.This is the first blog im actually reading. And hey, sure i'd love to know who your roomie was and who the all star was, but for real, the story is enough. I come from Australia and this stuff never happens over here. so yeah, keep up the entertainment dude

hellshocked - If the Lakers can re-sign Shannon Brown that'll help a lot in having someone to defend Tony Parker. He's the only of their three PGs who can really defend much. If they don't re-sign him though, then yeah, quick PGs will continue to have their way with the Lakers.

Arlen - Supposedly off-court Kobe and Artest have long been really good friends (they both mention this frequently in interviews), and Kobe has been lobbying the Lakers for years for them to get Artest, so I doubt you're gonna see much friction there now that they're teammates.

NarSARSsist - I agree with you about Ariza. I think that while he was a perfect complimentary player with the Lakers, I have real doubts about him suddenly blossoming into a star now that he's gonna possibly be The Man down there in Houston (with Yao and TMac out anyway). With the Rockets is Ariza gonna be the starting SG between Brooks and Battier? If he's the 2 guard there he's gonna have to learn to create his own shot and he's gonna have to keep improving his outside shooting (or at least keep shooting it the way he did in the playoffs). If he can't expand his offensive game though, then Houston's gonna have a hell of a time getting points with both a 2 and a 3 (Battier) who are mainly just complimentary scorers. There aren't many successful teams with two wing players who just defend but don't really score.

Wormboy & Mr. Bawful - Regarding Phil Jackson, I'm not as convinced of his prowess in corralling crazies. I think Jordan deserves a lot of credit for what the Bulls did with Rodman, and it's not all just Phil. People also tend to forget that Rodman really began to stray away from being a productive contributor in that third championship year. But Phil has tackled other head cases in his tenure with the Lakers with far less success (see JR Rider), so I don't know if he alone will be able to reign in Artest. However, Kobe has a pretty dominant personality nowadays as well, so that'll probably help, as will Artest joining a team that just won a title. I'm sure Artest will probably not want to be remembered as a guy who blew up a champion. It's gonna be interesting to watch, that's for sure.

BadDave - Thanks for the intriguing peek behind the curtain for a little insight into the man who's pulling the levers of the Great and Powerful Oz here. Here's hoping we get to hear some of those tales of extraordinary bad luck in future entries :)

I realize Artest and Kobe get along off the court, and they should - they're actually quite similar personality wise, just Artest tends to listen more to the lil devil side and lets things out a bit more.

So thats the problem - they're so similar, and emotional, and Artest might not take well to any jabbing from Kobe when Artest makes stupid decisions during games (which he will). So either Kobe has to not jab artest at all, or Artest has to suck it up and not be crazy.

Who knows what it'll be like - I'm sure for at least 1 yr it will be fine, which is all the Lakers want really. The 2nd year it might start being an issue, especially if they win the title and artest decides he needs to be a bit more of 'the man'

Either way, it was a good deal, no doubt, and it'll be interesting for us to try and decipher the body language